Zeke rubbed at the back of his neck. “Yeah, so do I.” He closed his eyes. “Damn it, Grandma, I can hardly stand being away from her.”
“Then you had better tell your mother and father.”
He threw up his hands and turned away again. “That’s the hard part. They’ll be furious. And they probably won’t believe Georgeanne could be any different from her father. But she is. I wish you could know her.”
“So do I, Zeke. All I can say is she must be quite something if she can look beyond your heritage and see the fine young man you truly are. I already love her just because you do. Maybe if you are careful for a time, wait until we get things settled with the deed and make sure Temple can’t rob this land from us, maybe then you can be together, maybe go away together. I know it’s hard to be patient when you’re young and in love, but you have to wait for a while, Zeke. You understand that, don’t you?”
He shrugged. “I guess. I have to see her once more, though, just to tell her that much. There’s a place where we meet and ride together. She goes there every day, hoping I’ll show up.”
Abbie sighed, feeling sorry for his tender heart. “Be very careful, Zeke, for your parents’ sake.”
He nodded. “I will. Thanks for understanding, Grandma.”
She grasped his hands. “Young love is something I totally understand. I was only fifteen when I met your grandfather.”
“Georgeanne is a full-grown, educated woman, old enough to know what she wants, but her father treats her like he owns her. He brags about her being well schooled and independent and all, ‘like a real rancher’s daughter,’ she says he puts it; yet he seems to think she shouldn’t have a mind of her own in some things. She only came home this past spring for a quick visit with him. She never intended to stay, until she met me.”
Abbie’s’ heart ached for him. “I hope neither of you gets badly hurt from this, Zeke, but I don’t see how it can be avoided. Please be very careful about meeting this girl. Her father sounds like a brutal man.” Very much like Winston Garvey, she thought with a shiver. “Everyone will be going back in a couple of days. However, I’m going to stay a little longer, go and help Ellen do some packing for their move to Pueblo. I’ll be here for a little while if you want to talk more about this. I just hope this Georgeanne is sincere and not leading you on, teasing you for some reason.”
“She wouldn’t do that. She’s taking just as much of a risk as I am when we meet each other. And it’s there in her eyes, Grandma. There isn’t a mean bone in her body. She’s got her pa’s strength and determination, but in the right ways.”
Abbie put an arm around him and walked him back toward the circle of family around the fire. “You be sure to write me and let me know what happens, Zeke; and you should tell your parents.”
“I guess I will, after I see Georgie once more. Life sure can be hard, can’t it?”
Abbie shook her head. “Oh, my dear grandson, I am the last person who needs to be told that. Life is much harder than you know. I just hope you don’t learn all your lessons the difficult way.”
It was the third week of July when everyone began packing to return. It was decided that Hawk and Iris would go first to Denver and see where their uncle Jeremy lived, get to know him better so that when they went there for school they would be more comfortable. LeeAnn and Joshua and their children would also go with Jeremy. LeeAnn wanted to see her brother’s home. Wolf’s Blood was curious, but he hated cities, especially Denver, which held bad memories for him. Thus he and Jennifer would head on home with Dan, Rebecca and Jennifer’s daughter Emily. Jason would also go straight home. His doctoring services were needed at the reservation.
Abbie and Swift Arrow would return home a few days later. Abbie would then return, going to Denver first, with the deed to the property, so that Jeremy could have it updated by an attorney. Swift Arrow would not come with her. He had been away from the mountains and the land of the northern Cheyenne too long, and he had no desire to go to a city like Denver. Like Wolf’s Blood, he hated such places. Dan agreed to accompany her, as he was retired from the army now and had decided he’d enjoy seeing Denver and Jeremy’s home, which he did not doubt was nothing short of a mansion.
Abbie disliked good-byes. Leaving this old ranch would always be one of the hardest things she would ever do, but at least she had a few more days before she had to go.
Hugs, kisses, tears. This reunion had been the highlight of her life, except for the day Zeke Monroe asked her to marry him. That was at Fort Bridger, forty-two years ago. They had already made love, somewhere in the wilds of Wyoming, a love-struck girl and a lonely half-breed bent on branding her as his own. And he’d most certainly done just that.
Wagons were loaded, and Abbie laughed to see the ever-elegant Mary climb into a bed of straw in the back of one of the buckboards. She had taken to the family as though she’d always known them, and that was a credit to her character. Jeremy had chosen well, just as Wolf’s Blood had said.
Abbie fought a growing dread she could not even name. So many memories, so many changes. How could forty-two years pass like a breath of wind? Soon it would be time for the old ones to pass away, and then these children of hers would be the old ones, then the grandchildren. It was a fact of life, one generation passing their wisdom and knowledge on to the next, the kind of change one simply had to accept. There was not one child or grandchild here of whom she was not proud, and that was what counted.
Swift Arrow moved beside her, putting a reassuring arm around her, as though he could read her thoughts. “We have lived through so much change, Abbie. These children, especially the grandchildren, they go on to something new. People like us belong to the past.”
Her eyes teared as the wagons lumbered off, everyone waving, LeeAnn crying. “Don’t take too long getting home, Mother. Stop and see us in Cheyenne on the way!”
“I will.” Cheyenne. Now a white man’s town, it was named for a tribe of Indians who no longer lived anywhere near it. Abbie watched the wagons until they disappeared over a hill … that same hill where she used to watch for Zeke’s return.
Zeke rode to the northeast quarter of the Monroe property, his heartbeat quickening when he saw Georgeanne waiting for him. She’d found his note! He kicked his Appaloosa, Rain Dancer, into a gallop, jumping a fence to get to the other side where she waited. Georgeanne laughed and rode off with him, both of them heading for the stand of trees where they always met in secret. On the way, Zeke pulled her off her own horse and onto his, settling her in front of him.
“You are now my captive,” he told her when they stopped.
Her eyes widened in mock terror. “And what do Indians do with women captives?” she asked.
Zeke felt a sudden, almost painful need for her. “They ravish them,” he answered.
She placed her arms around his neck. “Is that what you intend to do to me?”
He met her mouth in a hot kiss, searching deep. He’d not yet mated with any woman but he had a damn good idea how it was done and how good it would feel. “I would like to,” he finally answered, kissing her neck. “God, I’ve missed you Georgie.”
“And I missed you. How was the reunion?”
“It was really nice.” He told her about the family, every member, how his two uncles had reconciled, how rich his uncle Jeremy was. “Grandma Abbie is so pretty for a woman her age, and so wise. I wish you could meet her. I told her about you, Georgie.”
“You did? What did she say?”
“She said to follow the heart, but that sometimes is a hard thing to do. She said we must be careful and wise. I have to think about my parents.” He kissed her again, moving a hand to feel her breast through her blouse. The kiss lingered when she whimpered at the touch.
“It feels so good to have you touching me again,” she told him in a near whisper.
He leaned back and looked her over, studied the auburn hair that she wore loose today, thick tresses drifting over her shoulders and a few strands across
her face. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
“Not as beautiful as you are handsome.”
He laughed. “Grandma has given us some hope,” he told her. “She has a deed to our property. She is going to get it and have a lawyer in Denver make sure it is legal; then she will add my great-uncle Dan’s name to it. He is all white. Once everything is straightened out with the deed, your father cannot take our property away. Then maybe you and I can be together. We just have to be careful until then.”
She frowned “I’m glad about the deed, but I hate the waiting. Maybe we should just run off together.”
“I would like to, but for the moment I would not want to do that to my parents. They need my help on the ranch. And if we ran off together, your father might do terrible things to them and it would be my fault.”
“I understand. In fact, I can’t stay this time. Father thinks I am just out for a short ride and am coming back soon. A big landowner from Kansas is staying with us to talk business, so Father wants me there for lunch. The man owns land all the way from western Kansas into Colorado, and he might sell it to my father. Father would own even more land then. It seems he can never have enough. It’s like whiskey to him. Land, land, land. I’m sick of it!”
“That’s the way some white men are. Land means power, and it makes them drunk. That’s what my parents say and what my grandfather Zeke used to say. It is the reason there is no land left for the Indians.”
Georgeanne sighed. “I’m sorry I can’t stay. Will you meet me here again tomorrow?”
“You know that I will.”
“Good. You can tell me more about the reunion. And we’ll talk about how we can be together. I love you, Zeke. I haven’t really said it before.”
His heart took a quick leap. “And I love you. You are a good woman, Georgeanne Temple, and God means for us to be together.”
As they kissed once more, he wondered how much longer he could go on meeting her this way without invading her body and feeling himself inside her, claiming her, making sure she knew to whom she belonged. He was miserable with the want of her.
“Maybe tomorrow I will ravish you,” he teased.
She traced slender fingers over his full lips. “And maybe I would let you. I want my first man to be you, Zeke, my only man. Is that too brazen of me?”
He drew in his breath from the sheer force of his desire. “Not at all. It is beautiful to hear. I will be back tomorrow.”
Neither of them wanted to think about their promise to be careful. It was simply too hard. Their need was too strong.
“I love you, Zeke Brown,” she repeated, her voice raspy from want.
“And I love you, Georgeanne Temple. Come hell or high water.” He grasped her about the waist and hoisted her over onto her own horse. “We’ll find a way,” he repeated.
She reached out and touched the hard muscle of his forearm. “I’m glad you came. I was beginning to wonder if you would ever come back.”
“I will always come for you.” Reluctantly, he turned his horse and rode out of the trees, charging up to the fence and leaping it again.
Georgeanne watched, thinking what a fine specimen of man he was, how agile on a horse, what a good rider, a powerful young man. Yes, she was in love! She rode out of the trees and headed back toward the ranch house, hating the thought of having to sit through lunch with her father and Martin Jeffers from Kansas. It would be so boring. Her father would strut and brag and carry on in his booming voice about the importance of owning land. She could just hear him. Someday all this land will be worth millions. Gathering land is like gathering gold.
Perhaps. She really didn’t care. She only cared about Zeke Brown. She kicked her horse into a faster trot, unaware that from a hillside behind the trees two men sat watching her.
“You see? I knew she was coming out here to meet someone. Even from this distance I know who that is. It’s the Brown kid. We’d better tell Carson about this.”
“You think he’s stuck her?”
“Hell, yes. His pa’s half colored, and his ma is part Indian. Coloreds and Indians both pant after white women. I don’t know how he influenced her, but it’s obvious Carson Temple’s girl is lifting her skirts for him. Her pa’s gonna be furious.” The man grinned. The hired hands of Carson Temple turned their horses and headed for the main ranch, eager to tell the news, anxious to see Temple’s reaction. This could be Temple’s answer to getting his hands on the Monroe property, and a good excuse to hang an Indian.
Eight
It seemed forever to Zeke before he could ride back to the secret meeting place he and Georgeanne felt belonged only to them. When he first saw her, his heart pounded with anticipation, and he could see the look of eagerness on her face as they dismounted and tied their horses. He took her hand and led her deeper into the trees, where they spread out a blanket and sat down.
Zeke felt suddenly awkward, a little nervous. “So, did the man from Kansas leave yet?” he asked.
“This morning. He hasn’t made up his mind for certain but he’s pretty sure he wants to sell his land. Father will be one of the biggest landowners in Colorado if he does.”
The thought sickened Zeke. “My grandmother says a lot of this land used to belong to the Cheyenne, under a treaty they signed in 1851. Now the Cheyenne are all gone, mostly because of men like your father, I’m afraid.”
She lay back, resting on one elbow. “I do wish I could meet your grandmother.”
“Maybe you can. I’m thinking of telling my parents about you while she’s still here. Grandma Abbie understands how I feel. She’d help make my parents understand. They’ll be pretty upset at first.” He leaned down to face her, already feeling more relaxed. “Anyway, if I tell them, maybe you can ride over and meet them all. Or maybe we could tell them together.”
“Maybe.” She smiled, studying his dark eyes, always enraptured by his stunning looks. “I’ll bet your mother is beautiful. Your father, too. I remember some of the mixed bloods back in Georgia were very good looking.”
“You said your grandfather owned a plantation there.”
She nodded, sobering. “A very big one. That’s why my father is rich. My grandfather made a great deal of money from the plantation before the war, but when slavery was abolished, everything changed. The plantation was ruined, our home burned. I, of course, was not around to see all that. My grandfather wisely invested in businesses and land farther north. That’s where my father met my mother. After my grandfather died, Father sold everything and came West. Owning a lot of land is in the family blood, I guess. With everything so changed in the South, father decided to come out here instead. He says the real money is now in cattle and land.” She touched his hand. “I suppose his hatred of Negroes comes from when he grew up on the plantation. I remember hearing my grandfather talk about them. I could tell he must have been cruel to them. He and my father grew up in a time and place where Negroes were like cattle, plow horses, whatever. They did not see them as people.”
Zeke felt a deep bitterness. He’d never seen anything of slavery, but his father had told him stories about it, stories that had made him shiver. He was glad such things could not take place any longer, but the lingering prejudice in people like Carson Temple gave him a good idea of what life must have been like for slaves, and it told him that the attitudes of some men had not been changed by the abolishment of slavery.
When he looked in the mirror, he didn’t see an Indian or a Negro. He just saw a man with dark eyes and hair, a man with skin that tanned deeply in the sun. Anyone who did not know him probably could not be certain what strains of blood ran in his veins. Georgeanne had told him he was the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on. He didn’t meet enough people to know if that was true, but if she believed it, that was all right with him.
“My father has told me stories about slavery that I can hardly believe,” he told Georgeanne. “He and his mother were slaves. He never even knew his father. His mother was forced t
o”—he continued to study her hand—“forced to go to bed with her owner. After she got pregnant, she was sold to somebody else. She had my father, and he, too, grew up a slave, until the war ended all that. His mother was dead by then. My father made his way West, learned to ride and break horses, made a pretty good living, met my mother in Denver, married her, then came to live at the ranch. He helped my grandpa Zeke, learned a lot from him. Then when Grandpa died and Grandma left, he and my mother just kind of took over.”
“What was your mother doing in Denver?”
Zeke met her eyes. “My mother is a fine person, Georgeanne.” God, she was pretty. Today she wore a blue riding skirt, a white blouse that fit her generous, firm bosom nicely, a matching blue vest over the blouse. Her blue felt riding hat had a wide brim, and her boots were made of a fine black leather.
“I am sure she is. What has that got to do with Denver?”
He sighed. “I was told her story only a couple of years ago myself. A long time ago she was deeply hurt by a white ranch hand who promised her the world, talked her into his bed, said he’d marry her. Then he told her white men don’t marry Indian women. They only sleep with them. She was pretty young. She thought maybe that was true, that she had no happiness in her future. She rebelled, ran away to Denver and … and got into prostitution. That’s how my father met her.”
“Your mother was a prostitute?”
He frowned. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Oh, I don’t mean it in a bad way. I think it’s kind of exciting.”
“Exciting!”
“Oh, you know. Just that she’s been through the worst and ended up a married lady with children, helping run a ranch. A person just doesn’t expect that of a prostitute. I always figured most women like that have some reason for doing it, something terrible that happened to them when they were younger. And that’s exactly the way it was with your mother.”
Eagle’s Song Page 9
